


Always a Thursday

by LilyAurora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Escape, Hurt, Implied Relationships, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-31
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2017-11-23 01:16:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/616465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LilyAurora/pseuds/LilyAurora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He kept going over the past few days, thinking if he had done something wrong. Said something. But nothing came to mind. Everything had seemed. Fine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

  
He came here to get away.

  
To escape.  
  
Exhausted from all the questions, the looks. Jesus, how he hated the fucking looks. The pity... fucking pity. Like he should have known it would never have worked out. Should have never kidded himself into thinking the other had loved him. Would love him as much as he had loved him... and he did... he loved him... loved him so fucking much. Still did. Always would.  
  
It hurt so much. His heart fucking hurt. There were days where he wanted to dig it out of his chest. Dig it out and leave it on his doorstep. What use was it to him when it belonged to another. His traitorous heart that beat for someone else, that wouldn’t heal like they said it would. Wouldn’t stop hurting.  
  
He wiped his face. Fuck when had he started crying. That’s all he seemed to do. Cry. He would sit there for hours and just, cry. Remembering softly spoken words. Promises and shared secrets. Kisses and delicate touches. Touches that made him feel special. Just made him feel. He wanted it back. Wanted him back, he didn’t know what happened. What he had done wrong.  
  
He shook his head downing his shot, motioning to the bartender for another.  
  
That day, that fucking awful, heart wrenching day. He hated Thursdays now. Hated them. Would sleep that day away in a drunken stupor. They had plans to spend the day together, doing things that couples normally do. So they had planned and he had turned up like they had arranged. Knocking the door only for it to be ripped open. He remembered asking what was wrong, thinking something had happened to one of the pack, that they were hurt, or god forbid worse. But he had just said one word. ‘Leave.’  
  
He tried to question, beg him to tell him what was going on but he just stood his eyes flashing as he repeated the word, ‘Leave.’  
  
He had stumbled back, tears falling freely as the man before him slammed the door in his face. He managed to walk to his Jeep, his legs felt weak, like spaghetti. He didn’t remember the drive home, or climbing into bed. His father wasn’t there, away at some conference. He was thankful for that. He didn’t want him to see him like this. Weak.  
  
He had woken the next day, checking his phone, expecting to see a missed call or text, saying sorry that this had all been a misunderstanding. Whatever this was. But there were none. Not even off Scott. He tried ringing his best friend but was met with nothing more than his voicemail. He threw his phone across the room once he had received the same response from the rest of the pack.  
  
He kept going over the past few days, thinking if he had done something wrong. Said something. But nothing came to mind. Everything had seemed. Fine.  
  
He carried on like that for weeks. Being ignored, left alone to wallow. To hurt. To be in so much pain you can’t remember if you took your medication that day, so you take more then realize that Thursday... always a fucking Thursday, was already empty and you had taken Fridays. The following days.  
  
That’s when you decide enough. Enough.  
  
Early acceptance into college. His father had been so proud.  
  
He swallowed that shot as well, breaking himself from the memories.  
  
He watched the sea of bodies move to the music, listened to the laughter, their smiling faces. Strobe lights flashed around the club lighting up the faces of many of the occupants. That’s when he saw him. The lights had landed on him only for a few seconds, but that was all it took for him to recognise that chiseled jaw. His heart clenched painfully. What was he doing here. He was no where near Beacon Hills. That’s why he came here, knowing he would never run into anyone. Or so he thought. He was just stood there, leaning casually against the wall on the other side of the club, a smirk playing across his lips as a body leaned into him, whispering into his ear, a hand resting on his waist. He tore his eyes away, head spinning as he swallowed the bile that threatened to escape. He took hold of the bar swaying slightly, knocking into the person next to him.  
  
“Woah buddy,” the person chuckled righting him.  
  
He froze at the voice. His whole body locking, as warm hands held onto his arms.  
  
He lifted his face slowly. Eyes locking with wide shocked brown ones.  
  
“Stiles?” The name came out as a whisper, but he may as well have screamed it for the reaction it received.  
  
Another body slammed next to them.  
  
Isaac.  
  
“Stiles.” He whispered, blue eyes wide and tear filled. Touching him lightly, causing Stiles to take a step back, flinching from the outstretched hand. Isaac pulled away quickly, heartbreak on his face.  
  
He was panicking now. Chest heaving as he looked for an escape. It had been too long since he seen them. He had left. Put the distance between them all. He had fucking left so he wouldn’t have to deal with this shit.  
  
He spun on his heel moving through the crowd of people, pushing his way through. He had to get out of here had to leave before he seen him, before he spoke. He didn’t want to hear his voice. Didn’t want to be close enough to smell him. Fuck. His eyes darted back to where he had run from Scott, their eyes locking for a few moments before someone else stepped into his line of sight.  
  
Derek.  
  
Stiles stopped breathing. He could feel the tears, could feel them cascade down his skin as he fumbled with the handled of the door. He tore his eyes away. Greedily gulping in fresh air, stumbling towards his car. Key in hand as he clambered inside, locking the door behind him. He started the engine, slamming the car into gear just as the exit door flew open with a bang.  
  
Derek stood there, eyes scanning the parking lot, before locking on Stiles. He hesitated for a moment, watched as Derek took a step towards him.  
  
Fuck this, he thought, foot on the gas as he sped away. The figures from his past disappearing in his rear view mirror.


	2. Chapter 2

 

o-o-o-o

  
  
Stiles ran up the stairs, stumbling over each step, tripping over his own feet as he dragged and clawed his way to the top. He couldn’t believe, couldn’t wrap his head around what had just happened. Like seriously, did that really fucking happen? Or was he having some kind of pre exam freak out. Because come the fuck on, seriously?  
  
He lent against the wooden door of his room. Taking deep greedy gulps of air as he fisted his keys in his right hand.  
  
“Jesus Christ.” He muttered thumping his head against the wood. Once, twice, three times until he finally managed to unlock the door and stumble through it.  
  
“Fuck,” he shouted, taking hold of the frame before face planting. Slamming the door, he slid to the ground, knees tucked up against his chest. Fingers clenching and unclenching. He breathed deeply trying to calm his erratic heart, to control the panic that was pushing its way through. He bit his lip until it bled, trying to ground himself, to control his traitorous body. His legs were numb from the length of time he had spent on the hard wooden floors. But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.  
  
It had been so long since he had one of these. So long since he had felt that uncontrollable hysteria.  
  
He tried to breathe, remember the exercises they teach you, to focus his thinking on the word ‘calm’. But when you think your heart is going to explode and you can’t catch your breath and you have just seen the man who broke your fucking heart. Well, it becomes a little hard to do anything other than panic.  
  
“Stiles?”  
  
Jesus Christ. No.  
  
“Stiles, please I know you’re in there. I can smell you.”  
  
Fuck... fuck!  
  
“Go away.” His voice cracked with the words.  
  
“Please.”  
  
He couldn’t do this. Why had he followed him, fuck were the others with him. Were they outside as well, listening to him lose his shit. They would be able to hear his breathing, his heartbeat. Smell his panic and fear.  
  
He scrambled away from the door. Dragging his body as he sucked in deep breaths. Nails digging into the floors as he tried to find some leverage.  
  
“Stiles, open the door.” The voice spoke softly from the otherside.  
  
He shook his head continuing to move as far away as possible from the door.  
  
The handle rattled before turning slowly. Stiles watched with bated breath, heart pounding against his chest.  
  
“Stiles,” the voice called as the door opened slowly, a mop of curls poking their way in first, quickly followed by the tall lithe figure of Isaac.  
  
“Go away.” He couldn’t look at him. Wouldn’t.  
  
“Fuck Stiles, let me help you.” Isaac moved quickly, crouching down next to him.  
  
“No! Just... just go away.” His feet pushed against the floor. He didn’t want him touching him, didn’t need his help.  
  
Isaac ignored him, moving swiftly. He wound his body around Stiles’ pulling him flush against his chest. The position so familiar.  
  
“Stop fighting Stiles. Just breathe with me, like we used too. Please, just breathe.”  
  
Stiles shook his head. Fingers twisting in the fabric of his jeans. The thought of Derek being near, being here. He couldn’t.  
  
“He’s not here. Scott took him back to the Hotel. I promise you Stiles, he doesn’t know where you are.” Isaac spoke as if he had heard Stiles’ thoughts.  
  
“When we seen you at the club. I mean, when we realised it was you, Jesus Stiles you don’t know how happy Scott was, how happy I was,” he soothed rubbing circles into Stiles’ back as he continued to talk.  
  
“Derek wanted to run after you. To find you, but Scott stopped him. He knew, knew that if you ran there was a reason. A damn good one for not sticking around and speaking to us. The look on your face Stiles. Fuck it broke my heart. So much pain.”  
  
Stiles breathing became easier, his body began to relax from Isaac’s soft touches. It had been so long since he had needed Isaac this way. Needed anyone to help him.  
  
“Where...” Stiles licked his lips as he tried to speak.  
  
“The other side of town. I swear Stiles we had no idea you were here.”  
  
Stiles nodded his head falling forward onto his knees as he breathing returned to normal. The body heat from Isaac was comforting, more so that he cared to admit.  
  
“I don’t want to see him.” Stiles whispered.  
  
“Ok... Scott?”  
  
“I don’t... I’m not sure.” Stiles answered truthfully.  
  
“No problem. Do you want me to go? I’ll understand if you do, I was just so worried about you. I needed to make sure you were ok, I’m sorry Stiles. For everything, even if I don’t know the details. I’m still so very fucking sorry.”  
  
“I never blamed you,” Stiles whispered. “None of you. This... what happened was, is between Derek and myself. I don’t even know what happened, not really.” Stiles shook his head moving out of Isaac’s hold, turning to face him. “One minute we were fine, then the next... it doesn’t matter anyway.” He waved his hands about. “What’s done is done.” He shrugged then.  
  
“You didn’t have to leave.”  
  
He nodded. “I did. I couldn’t stay there, dad understood and Scott he had the pack and you,” he smiled softly. “He didn’t need me anymore. I never really fitted in anyway Isaac. Never.”  
  
“You’re pack Stiles.”  
  
“Was... I was pack. Not anymore.”  
  
“Stiles...”  
  
He waved the other boy off. “Look Isaac I’m fine, it’s fine. It doesn’t matter anymore. Derek made himself perfectly clear that night. So yeah, I may have been a coward by running away but if I stayed... god it would have been the worst. I can’t even think about it without feeling sick. I was so fucking stupid. I mean thinking that he... that he could possibly...” Stiles shook his head.  
  
“That he could what Stiles?” Isaac whispered.  
  
Stiles smiled sadly. Meeting Isaac’s gaze.  
  
“That he could love me back.” He picked at the seam of his shirt, pulling away from the other boy to stand on shaky feet.  
  
“He loved you Stiles.” Isaac added standing gracefully.  
  
Stiles barked out a laugh. “Yeah right. Look, he’s your Alpha I get that, you’re going to defend you and yours it’s natural, but Derek Hale.” Stiles shook his head. “He never loved me.”  
  
Isaac looked wide eyed. The puppy stare that worked so many times before no longer had the same effect.  
  
“Sorry buddy, but that no longer works on me.” Stiles waved a hand in Isaac’s general direction. Moving towards the kitchen to turn on the coffee pot.  
  
Isaac stood there just watching Stiles move around his small apartment. Jesus he had never been so shocked in his life until he saw Stiles in that fucking club. Of all the goddamn places it had to be there, and with Derek with them as well. He knew, both Scott and himself that Derek would want to follow him, but it was the wrong thing to do. He had left. Left them all behind. No farewell, no forwarding address. Nothing. When Scott had approached the Sheriff, he had just glared at Scott, snorted before climbing into his cruiser and driving off. They had no clue as to what happened. None of them.  
  
Except Derek.  
  
No matter how many times Scott, screamed, pleaded and near enough cried. Derek refused to talk about it.  
  
“Coffee?” Stiles called out. Pulling mugs from the rack.  
“Yeah, yes. That would be good, thanks.” Isaac moved to lean on the counter next to Stiles. He watched as he made them coffee, eyes flicking to Isaac every few moments. It felt strange, the distance, this bridge. There had never been empty space between them before. None of the pack. They always touched one another. Sat impossibly close. Ran a hand across shoulders and down arms. Isaac curled his own hands into tight fists, fingers twitching from the need to touch him. But he wasn’t allowed too. Not like that, like pack.  
  
“You doing ok there?” Stiles asked offering him a mug.  
  
Isaac shook himself before accepting the coffee. “Yeah, sorry. Thanks by the way.”  
  
“No biggy.” Stiles replied, moving towards the sofa.  
  
Isaac just stood there watching, as Stiles slowly lowered himself into the plush cushions. He looked tired, smelt it. The panic attack must have taken a lot out of him.  
  
“Well, don’t just stand there...” he said rolling his eyes. “Come sit down.”  
  
Isaac all but ran towards the empty space next to Stiles, content with the knowledge he was allowed to stay. The coffee really should have given that away.  
  
“Thanks.” Isaac smiled softly, sipping from his mug. He frowned at the mug before taking another sip.  
  
Stiles was drinking from his own mug, watching him carefully.  
  
“You, remembered?”  
  
“Yeah,” he shrugged. As if remembering how someone takes their coffee after two years is no big thing.  
  
“Stiles...” He began but was cut off by a flail of arm.  
  
“No. I do not want to do this Isaac, so just don’t.” He pleaded. His voice maybe stern but his eyes, Jesus Christ his eyes were always like an open book, so was his face you could read everything there. He was never good and hiding his emotions.  
  
“Ok. I’m sorry I understand.”  
  
They were silent for a few moments. Both lost in their own thoughts. Until a gentle touch to his thigh pulled Isaac back to the present.  
  
“Maybe... maybe one day. Ok? Just not yet. I need to... something I don’t know.”    
  
Isaac nodded. “Whenever you’re ready.”  
  
“So... tell me. How are you and Scott doing?”  
  
Isaac smiled at the change in conversation. Taking in the genuine curiosity Stiles had for his best friend/Ex best friend?  
  
They spent the next few hours talking, Isaac more so than Stiles. Which unnerved him slightly. Stiles was never the quiet one. Never. But he chose to ignore it for now. He would tell him everything that had happened since he had been gone, tell him whatever he wanted to know.  
  
Stiles settled back into the sofa, pulling his legs underneath him as he listened to Isaac speak. He was so tired. So damn tired. He felt as if he could sleep for a week. He nodded and smiled at what he was being told, glad that it had been Isaac that had followed him and not Scott, or god forbid Derek. Because that was something that could wait until, well forever. He had no plans of running into him any time soon.  
  
The soft lull of Isaac’s voice comforted him. Jesus he had missed this so much. He was man enough to admit how much he had missed Scott and Isaac. The pair had only just become an item before Stiles decided to leave. A few weeks at most. And he was happy they were still together. Scott deserved that and so did Isaac, he deserved everything good in the world and if Scott was the one who made him happy then Stiles was all for that.  
  
The soft lull had now turned into a gentle murmur. He could feel the mug being taken from his lax fingers, the rustle of the blanket he kept folded on the chair shaken out and placed over him, the gentle movements of a graceful werewolf, laying on the floor next to him. He smiled to himself, face burrowing into the cushions before falling into a deep slumber.  
  
Isaac listened to his heartbeat, the slow steady pace alerting him that Stiles had fallen to sleep. Scrubbing a hand across his face, he pulled his phone from his pocket, sending Scott a text, letting him know where he was.  
  
The reply was instant.  
  
Isaac smiled sadly at the message. Thumbs typing out a negative reply before slipping his phone back into his jeans.  
  
Maybe tomorrow Stiles would be willing to talk a little more.


	3. Chapter 3

 

The sound of movement from the bathroom, had Stiles fully alert within seconds. He stood quickly making his way towards his, bat before the memory of yesterday filtered into his mind.

Isaac.

By the sounds of it the wolf had decided to stay, something that shouldn't really surprise Stiles in the least. The curly haired boy was always the first to hug and touch you, when he knew something was wrong. Even being brave enough to ninja hug Derek on those rare occasions he would catch him off guard.

Stiles shook his head.

Nope, not going there today.

He made his way towards the kitchen, flicking on the kettle before pulling mugs from the cupboard and food from the fridge. He beat the eggs in a leisurely pace, mind drifting to places he had refused to think about in a long time. Seeing them yesterday, it brought back too many memories. Some he wished he could forget.

“Eggs?” Isaac whispered from Stiles' shoulder. Causing the boy to jump, spilling the contents over his shirt.

“Damn it Isaac, you scared the shit out of me.” Stiles grumbled, placing the bowl on the counter before pulling the shirt over his head.

The sharp intake of breath stilled his movements.

“Stiles.” Isaac's voice soft as his fingers tips gentle ran over the scars.

“Shit.” Stiles quickly pulled the material back down covering the evidence. He turned to look at the wolf, hands braced against the counter as he waited for him to speak. They knew they were there. All the pack did, but only Derek and Scott had seen them. Seen what had happened to him that night.

“I didn't know. Jesus Christ Stiles, was this... was it from that night?”

“I don't want to talk about it Isaac.” Stiles tried to move, but Isaac boxed him in.

“Was this what happened when you went up against the twins, Stiles?”

The refusal to answer was everything Isaac needed to confirm what he already guessed.

“And you still saved us, even when you were torn up, shredded like that? You still came back and saved us all.”

Stiles was staring at him now. Seeing how the pieces were beginning to fit together. The understanding was there of why he had to leave. How loyal he had been, how selfless.

“He made you leave after everything you did for us? For him!” Isaac roared.

Stiles shook his head. “It wasn't like that. I chose to leave, I had too.”

“Then what was it like Stiles? You explain to me what Derek said to make you stay? Did he beg you? Tell you how much you meant to him? How much he loved you?” Isaac voice broke at the end. The emotions too much for him to control.

“It doesn't matter any more.” Stiles shook his head.

“Yes it does.”

Stiles laughed. “It really doesn't. I've come to terms with what I was to Derek, Isaac. And that was nothing compared to what he was to me.”

“Why did you leave? You didn't have to. I still would have been there for you, so would have Scott.”

Stiles smiled running a hand across Isaac's face. Isaac nuzzled into his palm, scenting him.

“Don't you remember?” Stiles asked sadly.

Isaac just stared at him, large blue eyes confused for a moment until realization settled.

“He told us... he told us to give you space. To let you have some time. After that night we knew you were hurt and thought you just needed some time, that you asked for it. So we did, we stayed away giving you the distance we thought you wanted, we took what he told us as gospel, but he was lying wasn't he? You weren't the one to ask us to stay away, it wasn't you who wanted to break ties? How could he have lied to us.”

“He lied about a lot of things.” Stiles added sadly. Isaac whined at the scent of loss and sorrow coming from Stiles.

“I won't leave you again.” Isaac promised.

“You will have too. Derek will want to return to Beacon Hills, and you can't stay away from Scott.”

“You could come back.”

“No way.” Stiles shook his head. “You seen how I reacted last night after just bumping into you all. There is not way I can come back now, plus I still have a few months of college left. I am not dropping out early, my dad would kill me. You met him right? The Sheriff.”

Isaac rolled his eyes, finally moving out of Stiles' personal space.

“I'm serious, come back home. Erica would love to see you, so would Boyd.”

“Now, I know you're lying.” Stiles laughed. “Erica hates me.”

“No she doesn't. You saved her Stiles, her and Boyd. You don't know how much trouble she got into after you left. She screamed at Derek for a week to go and, “drag your skinny ass back.” She was livid when he refused. Wouldn't go near him for weeks. Even refused to shift.”

Stiles was stunned silent. He couldn't believe Erica had been like that. Over him. He never thought she of all people would give a rats ass what happened to him.

“Then Derek Alpha mojo'ed her into shifting.” Isaac shrugged.

“Yeah he's good at bossing people around.” Stiles spat, scrubbing a had through his messy hair. “Look Isaac you have to understand, even if I did come back.” Isaac beamed at this. “If, I said if... focus would you, Jesus. It wouldn't go back to the way things were. I can't do that to myself again. I gave so much to you all. I would have died protecting you, nearly did actually.” Stiles chuckled. Isaac whined. “I'm fine now.” He tried to placate the wolf, rubbing a hand across his face, before curling his fingers around the side of his neck.

The shrill sound of Isaac’s phone broke them from their discussion.

“It's Scott.” Isaac explained, eyes sad as he read the message. “I told him last night you weren't up for any visitors. Except me because I'm your favourite.” He smiled softly.

“You forced your way in.” Stiles chuckled. “But just for the record, you were always my favourite. What did he say?”

“He told me to tell you that... and I quote. “You suck ass!”

Stiles rolled his eyes before making his way over to the table. Two cups of coffee in hand.

“I don't know if I'm ready to see him yet.” Stiles spoke softly as he handed Isaac his coffee.

“Scott will understand Stiles. Whatever you decide. He loves you, you're his best friend.”

Stiles pulled his legs underneath himself as he sat on the one side of the sofa. Isaac on the other.

“Will he? I mean will he really understand? Because quite honestly Isaac, I don't think I even know what happened. One minute I was happy and in love, the next... well not so much.” He shrugged taking a sip of his drink.

“He loved you Stiles, you have to believe that?”

“I don't.” He snapped at the other boy, causing him to flinch. “Sorry, shit I didn't mean...” Stiles scrubbed his hand across his face. “Seeing you all yesterday nearly killed me Isaac, I haven't had a panic attack for a few years now, and feeling like that again, vulnerable. I didn't like it and if that's how I'm going to feel around you all again, then I'm sorry I just... I won't do it to myself. I deserve better.”

Isaac whined, placing his cup on the table. He moved forward into Stiles' space, taking the cup from the others boys hand, he placed that next to his, before curling himself around Stiles, his face pressed up against the expanse of his neck. Taking in deep greedy mouthfuls.

“I'm sorry Stiles.” He whispered. “I wish none of this had happened. I wish Derek wasn't a fucking idiot.”

Stiles carded his fingers through Isaac’s hair, scratching at his scalp.

“I'm not the same person I was Isaac, I wouldn't even know where to begin to try to be him again.”

“Who said you have to be any one, other than who you are right now.” He replied nuzzling into Stiles' chest.

Well fuck. Isaac was not supposed to be the voice of reason and maturity.

When the hell did that even happen. Stiles takes in Isaac's content, happy form and just... crumbles.

Well his father had hinted enough on the subject. If this was going to happen he would have to speak to Scott. He needed too. There was no way he was going to return without sorting things out with him first. Everyone else could go screw themselves.

Unless it was Erica, and she had a carburettor.

Fuck.

Why now, why did they turn up now. He was happy in his ignorance. Avoiding all kinds of weird activities. As far as he was concerned there was no such thing as the supernatural. But let's be honest, who was he trying to kid. From the moment Scott had been bitten, Stiles was in it for the long haul. He may have fooled himself for a few short years, but he was always going back to Beacon Hills. He would always go home.

His majors were in Norse mythological and astronomy. As well as a few other lighter courses. So he knew he would always be a part of the supernatural life. He just didn't expect it too be so soon.

“I'll think about it.” Stiles whispered, causing Isaac to make this pleased little noise in the back of his throat. And Stiles? Well Stiles was thinking of the best way to avoid Derek. Forever.


	4. Chapter 4

 

 Isaac's phone beeped for the fifth time, before Stiles finally caves and asked if there was a problem.

“No,” He shakes his head. “Just Scott checking up.”

“On which one of us?” Stiles asks around a smile and an eye roll. Scott has never been subtle.

Isaac grins back before passing his phone for Stiles to read himself. He chuckles at the use of words to describe Derek.

“I see his range of vocabulary has increased.”

“Like you wouldn't believe.” Isaac replies staring down fondly at his phone. Stiles fights the urge to roll his eyes.

“I have to go soon. Derek will be finished with the meetings and he’ll want to head back home.” Isaac explains, fingers digging into the designer hole in his jeans.

The word home hits Stiles hard. He’d be a damn liar if he said he didn’t miss Beacon Hills, because he did. So fucking much. His dad would come out to visit him. Knowing that Stiles wasn't’t ready to return. Not yet and he never pushed, never complained. Not once. When Stiles had asked, his father had just shrugged and said ‘ you’re my son and there isn't much I wouldn't do for you.’ Stiles’ chest tightens at the thought of his father.

“What kind of meetings?” Stiles asks breaking away from his thoughts.

Isaac shrugs. “Some kind of treaty with a few of the local packs.”

“Local?”

“Yeah, believe it or not, there are a hell of a lot of packs out there. And the majority are all connected. So once you have a treaty with one, you have to visit the one’s they are connected too otherwise you can insult them, and cause all sorts of problems. It’s all very political.”

“It sounds. Confusing.” Stiles answers honestly.

Isaac laughs. “Yeah, that’s why Scott’s gone and I’m left behind. I’m not the best with meeting the new packs. They tend to be a little, touchy.”

Stiles nods his head in understanding. It took Isaac the longest to allow the pack to touch him. He shunned them away at first. Ducking away from outstretched hands, preferring to sit on the floor instead of the sofa, squashed between a few of them. Even in the rare sleep piles, he would be on the very outskirts. Not touching anyone.

“Well can’t blame you for that one, buddy. I don’t think I would have enjoyed a gropefest.” He winks at Isaac trying to lighten the mood.

Isaac smiles brightly. Eyebrow raised when his phone beeps again.

“Scott?” Stiles asks from the kitchen.

“No.” Isaac shakes his head. He drags his eyes up, to gaze at Stiles. “Derek.”

Stiles’ whole body freezes. He knows he’s not here. But the reaction is compulsive.

“We’re leaving tonight. The meeting went well. Finished quicker than he thought.”

Stiles doesn't say anything.

“He says to say…”

“Don’t.” The words are like ice as they rip through the air. Stiles’ fingers dig into the worktop. His whole body tense.

Isaac is next to him in seconds. Phone forgotten, as he rubs soothing circles into Stiles’ back.

They stay like that for a while. Stiles breathing heavily, as Isaac quietly comforts him.

“I should go. Scott will freak if I’m not back before him.”

Stiles nods. Body still ridged.

With a final gentle squeeze to his neck. Isaac pulls away from Stiles.

He listens as Isaac collects him phone, places his coffee mug into the sink and moves towards the door, putting his shoes on.

“What time are you leaving?” Stiles asks so quietly.

Isaac pauses, head tilted as if he had difficulty hearing him.

“Around eight. We should be home by morning.”

There’s that word again. Home.

Stiles glances at his watch. It’s a little before three.

“Can you…” He coughs to clear his throat. “do you think you will be able to come back before you go?”

Isaac looks so fucking torn. He wants to say yes, you can see it. The struggle he’s having with himself.

“I don’t know Stiles. Derek, shit, he might try to follow.”

Stiles is shaking his head, finally turned around to look at Isaac. “It was just a thought. I should have said earlier. If he could have, it would have been nice to see Scott.” He closes his eyes. Swallowing down the emotions that threaten to rip free.

“Are you serious Stiles? You want to see him?” Isaac’s beams at him. Eyes bright.

“I do, yeah. But if it’s too much trouble. I don’t.. fuck Isaac. I don’t want to cause any problems between Scott and Derek.” He closes his eyes at the sound of Derek’s name as it leaves his lips.

“How about this. If we can slip away for an hour or two then we will? If Derek’s being a major dick, then we won’t. But I’ll text you to let you know what’s happening, how’s that?”

“Good, yeah. That would be awesome.” Stiles breathed out heavily.

With a long hug and a promise to text him soon, Isaac was gone. Nothing but a dirty coffee cup left behind to show he had actually been there.

Stiles paced.

Then he cleaned.

Then he paced some more.

He had to forcefully stop himself from cleaning the floors for a third time. His many attempts to occupy himself with Sky rim or Assassins Creed failed. So he ended up stress cleaning. The whole apartment was sparkling by the time he was through.

Then his phone beeped.

Stiles froze. Eyes wide as he stared at his phone on the table. He moved slowly, cautiously. His fingers twitched as he reached for it, swiping his finger across the screen he opened up the new message.

**To Stiles - From Isaac.**

**Be there soon!**

Soon? How long was soon? He debated on whether to text him back, but instead Stiles did two loads of laundry and rinsed out the shower.

He had just pulled off the very flattering pink gloves, he had been wearing to clean the bathroom when the front door knocked. Stiles quickly threw them under the sink, splashing his face with cold water, before walking towards the door. He froze as he reached it, fingers shaking as he curled them into fists, he took a few deep breathes, before opening his eyes and unlocking the door.

Before he had a chance to speak. Stiles found himself with an arm full of werewolf.

“Jesus Christ.” Scott murmured into Stiles’ neck. “You smell just the same.” He buried his face into the crook of Stiles’ neck and just, breathed. Letting these pitiful little noises escape.

“Hey buddy.” Stiles said patting Scott on the back, awkwardly since he couldn't move.

Isaac stood in the doorway. Grinning, before walking inside and closing the door behind him. “I’ll make some coffee.” He tells them, walking towards the kitchen.

“Scott? You’re going to have to let me go dude.” Stiles laughs slightly as Scott groans into his skin, pulling him closer. It takes a few more minutes before Scott reluctantly releases Stiles from the death grip he had on him.

They pull away from each other, Scott’s hands still holding onto Stiles as if he were to disappear any second.

“Stiles.” Scott’s whispers. Big brown eyes tear filled as he smiles at his friend.

Stiles just smiles back before nodding towards the sofa. Isaac joins them a few minutes later with mugs of coffee.

“God, I don’t even know where to start.” Scott begins. He’s turned his body to face Stiles, Isaac has slotted himself behind him. arm draped along the back of the sofa, body relaxed as he silently listens to his boyfriend.

Stiles shrugs. Sipping at his coffee. “How have you been?” He asks. Cradling his mug between his hands.

Scott balks for a moment. “How have I been? How have you been Stiles? Fuck… never mind about me. I want to know about you? You’re dad, he wouldn't tell me anything. I went there everyday. For months and he refused to even speak to me some days. And Derek…”

“Can we not talk about him please.” Stiles snaps. instantly regretting it.

“I’m sorry. I’ve just missed you so much dude.” He leans forward pulling Stiles to him again. Nose running across his neck as he scents him.

Stiles pats his head, before gently pulling himself free. “I’ve missed you too. I just had to leave.”

“I know, I don’t know why but I realize there must have been a damn good reason.”

“I’ll explain someday Scott, but not today.” He’s still sat slightly rigid. Not allowing himself to relax just yet. He’s worried Scott’s going to try and ask him questions. Push him. But he doesn’t. He just sends Stiles that easy smile of his and leans back into Isaac.

“I don’t care when. I’m just happy you’re OK.”

Stiles nods. Finally allowing himself to relax.


End file.
